


The piece is ending (but I still hear the music)

by Leocante



Category: TwoSet, Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bisexual Disaster Brett Yang, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, awkwardness on main, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leocante/pseuds/Leocante
Summary: Eddy's having a sexuality crisis and asks Brett some questions. About men.It's impossibly awkward, they roast Mozart and there's cheesy Chinese drama involved.Plus lots of unresolved sexual tension. And one poor wall.
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 20
Kudos: 97





	The piece is ending (but I still hear the music)

**Author's Note:**

> I had this work in my WIP's for like, five months now. I didn't know where I was going with it and I still have no idea. I just swept the dust from it and it's as good as new. Enjoy!

"Brett?" asked Eddy on one calm and averagely boring afternoon. They were done with shooting and ended up chilling on a sofa. A particularly bad Chinese drama was peacefully playing in the background. The evening didn't show any signs of what was to come, not yet. 

Brett hummed something incomprehensible in response, not taking his eyes from his phone.

"You've had relationships with men, right?" Eddy carried on with his question.

"Hmmh."

The reaction was outstanding. 

He had a chance to pretend like he never asked, but his recent thoughts weren't going anywhere any time soon, or so it seemed. He took a deep breath to ground himself and tried again, this time a bit louder.

"Brett." 

Brett distractedly looked up from his phone. "Yeah, sorry man, what was the question?" 

Eddy still had a chance to change the topic, say something stupid, like 'violas are shit', and move on. But it was only fair that his damned curiosity got in the way.

"You've had relationships with men, right?" he asked again. 

He earned a look for the question and a single "Yep". Then Brett's phone lit up with a new message and he came back to answering the thing. 

Well, that wasn't a new information, only confirming what he already knew. But Eddy wasn't giving up the topic, not when he poked into it.

"And you've had relationships with women." It was more like a statement than a question, but Brett shot him another look and answered nevertheless. 

"Yep." 

So far so good. Interviewing level million. Good job, Eddy. 

"Sexually?" 

This seemed to catch Brett's attention, as he turned the phone off and looked at him with a strange expression.

"No, we were just friends. Buying each other gifts for birthdays and sharing the shower to save time," he retorted with a sharp sarcasm.

Eddy tried not to take offense in it. "Ouch, bro, I'm just asking, no need to be an asshole about it!" 

He could hear his best friend sigh just as another message announced itself and this time was let unnoticed. 

"Okay, what else do you want to know about my sex life?" 

That sounded weird when he put it like that. But now it was too late to just shut his mouth and carry on as if nothing awkward happened. Just dudes being bros, right?

"Not your sex life particularly, just a sex life as whole?" he meant to say it with more confidence, but his voice went up at the end, probably showing Brett that he didn't have the high ground in this conversation. 

Brett took a pity at him, being the more experienced of them two, especially more experienced in the whole men area. The sarcasm from his voice instantly vanished as he took in the change of the atmosphere and prompted Eddy to carry on. 

"Go on, ask me then." 

His phone lit up with another message and a loud ping of the messenger. It was distracting.

"What is the difference?" Eddy asked, feeling awkward about the whole thing. Thankfully, Brett didn't leave him hanging, and despite the suspicious colour of his cheeks answered without laughing at him. At least not out loud. 

"You mean the difference between dating a boy and a girl or a difference between fucking boy and a girl?"

Eddy felt a heat rising on his face at the response. Don't get him wrong, they discussed topics like sex before. Just a hell lot less sober than now. And younger. 

"Fucking," he blurted out, "Sex." 

"I'm not drunk enough for this," said Brett wishfully and seconded Eddy's own thoughts. 

Brett's phone pinged and lit up once again, only to be ignored.

"Can't you just like, look at porn or something?" he said it in a completely resigned manner, probably aware he couldn't escape at this point.

"I don't think porn is a great educational material." 

It couldn't even reflect hetero sex right, there wasn't any reason to believe that kind of thing. Thankfully, it looked like Brett shared the same sentiment. 

"Fair enough. You've been with a girl, right?" It was a rhetoric question.

And Eddy's turn to say "Yep", as not much more needed to be said. They both knew that. 

"Then imagine the same with a man."

So much for an insight. 

Eddy grimaced and Brett sighed and carried on.

"Why are you asking?"

That was actually a good question. Why was he asking? The answer was complicated at best.

"I'm just curious," he tried to sell it, together with his best unbothered smile.

It was weak even for his standards, but Brett didn't call him out for it.

"I'm not explaining, because that's just weird, bro. But if you'd be up for personal experience, I can help with that."

Eddy looked at him with wide eyes. Did he just say the words that he heard right now? 

"Fuck, I just realized how creepy that sounded," Brett started laughing, "but I meant that it's not that late to visit some of the clubs downtown."

Eddy realized he held his breath and he mentally scolded himself for being such an idiot. It sounded like a proposition and he wasn't ready, he wasn't even sure he was attracted to men. Geez, was it possible to have a heart attack at his tender age of 28? 

He somehow managed a coherent sentence.

"You mean a gay bar? Like Apollo's?"

"Not exactly Apollo's, the music is horrible there, but essentially?" Brett's smile was radiant and utterly supporting. "Yeah." 

Eddy thought about it for a moment. The weather was nice, he knew exactly what to wear and his best-friend-slash-wing-man would be by his side. 

But to be honest, he didn't feel like going out or like socializing with anyone. And Brett's malicious expression was to be feared, he talked him into bunch of crazy things already, but this was a whole new level. 

Does he have the mental capacity to put himself out there, like a piece of meat for a sale? Wouldn't it be unfair to whoever would capture his attention? It felt like using that person for his selfish purposes and, although clever, it was just wrong.

He heard himself saying "nah, not today" and Brett just shrugged and turned on his phone once again. There must've been at least ten new messages. 

Eddy focused on the Chinese drama at hand, ignoring the question marks. The main guy character was handsome, by Asian standards. Handsome face, piercing eyes, sharp nose and kissable lips, everything was only brought out by the noticeable amount of makeup that made you doubt if he's naturally this pretty or if it's lip gloss and a little bit of mascara. 

Pretty described the guy perfectly. He was too soft for being called handsome, decided Eddy, as the boy smiled on his love interest. He was pretty and cute. The fact that he could appreciate cuteness didn't automatically made him gay. 

Just enjoying the view. 

"Bro, I can literally feel you checking out that guy." 

Eddy snapped out of his thoughts and met eyes with Brett, who snickered at him and gestured towards the tv with his free hand. There was a detailed closeup of the actor smirking seductively, and yes, he was totally checking out the guy. 

"How would you rate him?" 

"Interesting out of ten." Eddy couldn't let this opportunity slip by. 

Their shared laughter filled the room, and finally, the weird awkwardness of the conversation disappeared.

Eddy relaxed, only now noticing how tense he held his shoulders. It was just them on the couch, nothing to be stressed about. Brett rearranged himself into a cross-legged position, leaning onto him for a moment, the warmth making its way through the layers of clothing they both wore. The few seconds of contact were familiar and safe.

And bound to end up quickly.

"On a scale from Mozart to Jimin, he's a decent seven," said Eddy, trying to focus on something different than the tiny contact point where Brett's knee remained pressed into his leg. 

"Did you just roast Mozart?" 

Brett doubled over with laughter and ran his hands through his hair, making it even bigger mess than before. His face was illuminated by the soft light from television and the bright white of his phone, making him look eerie and untouchable, despite their physical closeness. 

It once again reminded Eddy who was on the scale just a place under Jimin, and it wasn't the direction he wanted his thoughts to turn.

"How would you rate him?" he asked, after the snickering died out. 

"Mozart?" asked Brett cockily, "a fair one in looks, decent nine in music." 

Eddy cackled at that and watched as Brett gave the poor actor an intensive once-over. He had a judgemental expression and Eddy would give anything to know what he was looking for. The soft features, the confident smirk? 

"Nah, barely a five," said Brett. "He isn't my type." 

That begged the question of what _was_ his type, if it wasn't the walking, talking epitome of mainstream Chinese drama beauty? 

There was a silence stretching after that. Brett answering whoever wanted his presence, Eddy lost in his thoughts, mindlessly watching the television. 

It didn't take long before Brett put his phone down with a decisive motion, screen down. It almost immediately pinged with a new message but remained ignored by them both. 

"You wanted to know how different the sex is right?" 

It looked like Brett started to enjoy this conversation more than he should. And it wasn't exactly a good thing. The challenging expression that just meant he was up to no good? It screamed trouble. 

"Yeah?" there wasn't how else to react. He wanted to know that at the beginning. 

"It's messier."

"Thanks, I didn't need to know that." Eddy wrapped himself more tightly into his hoodie as his brain imagined in all its glory what it meant.

"Hey, you asked!" Brett laughed, the absolute, unhelpful moron he was.

Screw him. And screw his own imagination, which was totally working overtime. 

Brett's phone made itself known once again and this time he lifted it up and replied. But Eddy wasn't done yet. There were a few more things he was always curious about. 

"How do you find out if you're a top or a bottom?" 

There was a beat of silence. 

"Are you having a crisis?" 

"Maybe? I don't know." 

Yes. Yes he was. 

"Just imagine whatever you'd do with a girl from her perspective, I guess." He shook his head, as in not believing he's the one who has to explain this stuff.

Brett was full of great advices on this fine afternoon.

Eddy turned his attention back to the tv. Right in this moment the guy from their tonight's Chinese drama grabbed the girl's wrist and pinned her to the wall. It was probably a great example. 

What would it be like to be the one with his back smashed into the wall?

Brett was watching the scene too and he knew his best friend well enough to know what he's trying to imagine. His expression changed from resigned to amused, as he saw Eddy shake his head.

"That doesn't feel right," decided Eddy with a sigh. He was a bit relieved to be honest, his masculinity remained untouched. 

Brett was laughing at him, the jerk.

"Is it you talking or your pride?" 

Of course him, he would know if he felt good being manhandled like that. Although the smirk he got sent his way was telling another story.

How would he love to swipe it off that face. 

"Are you a top or a bottom?" The blunt question left his mouth quicker than he could really think about it and shut his mouth. He hoped it wasn't too offensive to ask.

The red on Brett's face told him it was just embarrassing, but none offence taken. Thank god. It wouldn't be funny to break their friendship over something so stupid.

"It kind of depends on the other person." 

That was a diplomatic answer. But not good enough to satisfy Eddy's curiosity, he was not going to let Brett escape so easily. He had an impressive skill of dodging any kind of subjective response. It was hard to get something honest from him. 

Eddy tried it another way. "And between the two of us?" 

Brett pulled off the expression when he looked like his soul was leaving his body and locked eyes with him. 

The battle was surprisingly won by Eddy. (Brett was probably trying to save his own masculinity.)

"Top." 

The change in Brett's posture as he was saying it was subtle, but visible for someone as used to his body language as Eddy was. He straightened up a little and lifted his head just a tiniest bit, looking ready to fight him on the topic. 

It was... An interesting picture. And surprising, even if it shouldn't be. Brett was a natural leader and charmer, a concertmaster. He could take any situation into his hands, he could lead in duets beautifully, he could make decisions when Eddy was too conflicted to make one. 

But at the same time, it was fucking weird.

"I'm going to get something to drink, if you've got more questions like this." 

His reaction was probably taking too long, as Brett stood up from his place and started to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

It was an amazing idea.

"Do we have something better than the disgusting champagne?" yelled Eddy after him. 

"Come and see it for yourself!" 

It only occurred to him that he fell into a trap when it was too late to react properly. He ended up with his back in the wall between the kitchen and the living room. It was harsh and utterly more painful than the girl in the drama let show on her face, a sudden movement he wasn't ready for in the slightest. 

It knocked his breath out of his chest. And he was entirely sure it wasn't because of the collision with wall.

Brett held his wrist firmly right next to his head, leaning completely into his personal space, but not touching with any other part of his body than his hand. The fact that he did it before was clear not only in the way he flawlessly re-acted the stupid scene, but also from his confidence with which he stood his ground. 

Despite their height difference, Eddy could physically feel he wasn't the one holding the power in his hands and it was intoxicating, thrilling. 

He could feel his heartbeat double in speed, the heat rose onto his cheeks and he wetted his lips, not knowing what the following steps to this dance were. He expected Brett to drop the act in any second, now that he proved his point. 

Nothing like that happened. 

Instead, they locked eyes and he could see the that Brett was seeking a confirmation. He knew what he was asking, no words needed, they were so used to watch out for clues while playing duets that this felt like an extension of what they normally did. Even if it was far from normal.

He nodded.

Brett took a step closer, flushing their bodies together and Eddy had a hard time to stop himself from moving or moaning or kissing him.

It wasn't fair.

But it was right. 

It felt right. 

He threw his head back and closed his eyes. The movement would've been met with the wall, if it wasn't for Brett's insight. Instead of slamming his head right into the unyielding thing, he was met with a much softer hand protecting him from the impact.

On one side, he didn't have an ounce of control over the situation. On the other side, it didn't matter.

He was safe. 

Brett exploited the situation and ran his fingers through his hair, down his left cheek and across his lips. 

Every touch left him with a burning desire for more. 

He tried to reach out with his free hand to do something, seeking more contact, chasing the fire. 

Brett didn't let him. It didn't look like he was going to cross the border any time soon.

Screw the fucking border. 

"Kiss me?" His voice came out raspier than he expected. 

It was a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid idea. 

(He didn't regret it in the slightest.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated (but in no way mandatory xD).  
> Have a nice day! Or night, if you're anything like me. 
> 
> <3


End file.
